Wichita eagle., 1887-07-19


singing at her work. When read the best
pages in my books to her, would see hel
eyes fixed dreanily on some far away
thought, her work lying idle, till she woke
with start at my fretful questions.
For grew fretful and trying in those days
l wanted her to give up woman's dearest
hopes and sweetest affections, and be the same
sunshiny Ruth she was before my hand tore
away her love dreams. / wanted her to put
away all the loving, tender ties of wifehood
and motherhood, and pass her life in devotion
at the armchair of a paralyzed old man. And
when she complied, with gentle, touching sub
mission, then wanted her to be the bright,
happy girl who had resigned nothing, and
who could nurse sweet, girlish fancies, with
John for hero. An unreasonable old tyrant,
wasn't /?
The winter came in early that year, and
before Christmas everything was frozen up
| tight, and the cold was intense. We piled up
coal in the stoves, listed doors and windows
that is, Ruth did the work, and 1 enjoyed the
| result; but there came one cold day-one
| Friday-when it seemed no Goals, no listing
could conquer the cold Children froze on
their way to school that day, and were found,
| stiff and stark, leaning against the fences.
Food froze on the tables. Ask any one in Maine
| If they remember that black Friday, and see
if some mothers eyes will not fill as they
| think Of the little scarlet hooded figures
| brought to their doors, white and rigid, that
| had lifted rosy, round cheeks for kiss only
a few short hours before.
| This cold Friday Ruth hurried through her
work in the morning, making my room the
warmest place in the house, covering my
armchair with soft woolens and moving it
near the stove. | would have it face the win
| dow, f, my glimpse Of outdoor life was too
| precious to resign; but l was not, as usual,
| near it, for Ruth said there might be draft
When all was done indoors saw from my
| chair Ruth, with scarlet cloak and hood
thrown over her, going to the well with an
empty bucket. She stepped along quickly
over the hard, frozen ground, and was ad-
miring the trim little feet and the dainty
figure, when l saw her slide to the two steps
that were above the well walls and fall. She
had slipped, and she lay doubled up between
the two wooden steps and the rough sides of
the well, as if she could not rise Two or
three times her hands clutched the lower
step, and she raised herself half way up only
to fall back again, as if her limbs would not
support her.
And could only look on, powerless to move
to aid her. Oh, the idea of itl To know she
was hurt, unable to rise, and I helpless as
log. 1 screamed and called for help. Silas
was somewhere, I could not tell where, and l
called loudly for him. 1 could see, after
time, that Ruth, after her frantic struggles,
was growing drowsy with the death sleep of
cold. The scarlet hood dropped moro and
more, till it rested against the well SIDE and
the blue veined lids closed over her eyes.
The sight called from me such cry of agony
as l thought must be heard for miles.
1t was heard. A moment later ohm HAYES,
painting and eager eyed, burst open the door.
"What is its" he cried II heard you call
ing on the road"
Ruth! Ruth" I screamed. "She is freez-
ing to death by the we'll"
He stopped to hear no more. Out upon the
hard, slippery ground, down the steps with
swift, rapid strides and then l saw him stoop
and lift the little scarlet cloaked figure in his
strong arms, and come swiftly back, bending
his face down over the senseesS one on his
arm, while hot tears rained down his brown
cheeks. He put her on lounge near my
chair, and then dashed out for snow.
Grub her, rub herl' he said. Il am going
for doctor and for ny mother"
Before it seemed possible he could have
crossed the lots to his home his mother was
with me and lifted Ruth away from the fire
to the bed. The doctor came, and the two
worked ill my heart sank with utter hope
lessness before the blue eyes opened again or
the breath futtered through the pale lips.
But it did at last, and John joined me in
fervent "Thank Godi"
But Ruth had broken her leg, and we knew
she must lie helpless for many weeks before
she could be our active, bright girl again. 1t
was an appalling truth for me to face, but
she was not dead, not lying frozen against the
rough well curb, and l could not but feel
thankfulness far, far above the pain of know
ing her suffering. 1 was trying to settle it
all in my mind; to understand the doctors
words, while Mrs Hayes and the doctor lifted
Ruth to her own room that opened into mine.
They were away long time, ami John sat
beside me, holding my hand in his, and COM
forting me as if 1 had not taken the very hope
of his life from him.
"Don't grieve so" he said gently. "She will
live
Thanks to you," said. 90, John, if she
gets well she is yours. Give her your strong
arm for life, John, instead of my helplessneSs
| see to-day where my selfish love bas nearly
cost her her life"
"Do you mean that?" John asked, with
little trembling in his voice; "do you really
mean that!"
II do, indeed. Let her stay here, John. l
viii not be a burden on your purse, fer the
house and farm and all 1 have saved are
Ruth's; but let her give me what time and
love she can spare from you"
"Gladly,' he answered; "but we will not
wait till she is well, Mr.. Martin Let me
have Ruth for my wife now, today"
with broken leg, sick, helpless!'
"Does she not need me the more? Give her
TO me now"
But he had to wait until the bans were
called in church three times, though he came
to us that day, caring for me with the tender
ness of son, while his mother nurSed Ruth.
They were alone together, as we were, and
they had shut up their house, and come to
live with us, never to leave again. For one
morning, propped up with pillows Ruth was
dressed i'll white by Mrs. Hayes, and we had
a wedding in the little room. My chair was
moved in, and the neiShbors came from far
and near TO hear the solemn words that made
John and Ruth man and wife.
And happiness has shed its true light upon
our home ever since.